Dreaming
by AtHeart150
Summary: Culloden - What if the Stones send Claire right back to the moment she left. The day of the Battle of Culloden. Based on the books, rather than the show.
1. Chapter 1 - Culloden

**None of the characters are my own. They are bases on those created by Diana Gabaldon.**

I run as quickly as I can up the last rise of Craigh na Dun. I stop at the top, turn and look back. I cannot see but I can hear Jamie's voice as he fights the soldiers. There must be several soldiers for all the sounds I hear. The soldier that is chasing me has stopped and turned back. He is going back to help the others. Jamie, my warrior, is fearless. He knows he will die today. It does not matter to him if he dies on the battlefield of Culloden or protecting the bairn and I as we return to the Stones and my time. He has always said he would protect me, with his body if need be. I know him to be a man of his word.

I hear the noise I have come to dread. I hate the deafening roar. The roar of the Stones. Telling me they are alive and ready to eat me. To rip me to shreds. Tears stream down my face. I look down at my hand. The "J" is still freshly carved in the flesh at the base of my thumb. The Mount of Venus Mrs. Graham had called it. She said it meant my husband would never stray far from my bed. Jamie certainly never had. He has loved me from almost the minute he saw me until this moment, the day he dies. My home here is dead he had said and he had pushed me toward the Stones. I press my hand into a fist. My fingers digging into the mark he made. I feel nothing not even the pain I know should be there. I open my hand. It is covered in my blood. I raise my hand and scream the name of my own hearts blood as I place my hand on the Stone. "Jamie!" The only sound I hear now is that of my heart breaking.

I open my eyes. It is raining, lightly, like tears. Must be in Scotland I tell myself and smile sadly. I must have been out for quite a while; the sun is low. I immediately place my hand on my stomach, protectively. The baby. I slowly manage to find my feet and stand. Still a little wobbly. I am hungry. My stomach growls to remind me. I cannot remember the last time I ate. I push my wet hair from my face and look up at the Stone that is responsible for my insides feeling such sorrow. They are responsible for taking me from Jamie. They are quiet now. I have completed my journey so they no longer talk to me. I see the outline of a bloody hand print on the Stone. I shake my head to clear the cobwebs, turn and walk down the hill to the road. Only there is no road at the bottom of the hill, at least not the paved one I am expecting.

The cottage is still there. Right where it was when I left it. It looks the same. As I approach, I see three dead British soldiers...one with his sword still in his hand. I stand in one place and turn in a circle. I take in all 360 degrees of my environment. Everything is just as I had left it except my husband and the horse we rode in on are gone. I scream Jamie's name out loud. Loudly, and then listen. Nothing. Not even birds calling back. I turn a full circle again to get my barrings. I hike up my skirts and start to run. Back the way Jamie and I rode in...back to Culloden. Maybe I am not too late.

It is too dark to see now. I do not know my way well enough to not need to see the road. The dirt road. I am also exhausted. I don't think I can walk much further. I need food. I had caught rain water a couple of times while I walked, ran and trotted in my effort to reach my destination but I would need to find food tomorrow. I need to keep up my strength for baby, for me and for Jamie when I find him. I turn and walk a dozen or so steps from the path into the brush along the road, crawl under a bush and almost instantly fall asleep.

I awake to birds chirping. Jamie had always said to listen to the birds. They will tell you of danger close by. I listen. I hear running water and follow the sound. I find a small stream another dozen paces from the road. I lie on my stomach and place my lips to the water and take two healthy drinks then make myself stop. I will get sick and throw it up if I drink too much, too fast. I find a few late berries and a couple of edible mushrooms to eat then take another drink from the stream and start walking again.

What was managed in less than two hour on horseback, takes me three days on foot. The smell is what first hits me. There are bodies as far as the eye can see. Three days of ripe, rotting flesh. What I thought was fog, I realize is smoke as I approach. Fog does not sting the eyes. The air is heavy with this smoke. I see mounds. The mounds are on fire. Some of the piles have large flames licking the air; twelve feet high. Others are smoldering. They are producing the smoke. It seems like the entire bog is burning. The smell of the air makes me nauseous; the stink of death. I realize it is dead bodies that make up the piles. "of Scots. Dead Highlanders. They are burning the Scottish Highlander bodies," I say out loud as comprehension sets in. I am in a state complete shock. Numb. Somewhere they are burning my Jamie and Murtagh and Angus and Willie. They are burning my Frasers, as well as MacKenzies, McDonalds, McMahons, Camerons and more. People I know. People I love. The British soldiers are moving them into piles and burning them. They are sorting the piles by clans, by the plaids the men and boys are wearing. I know some day there will be stones to mark where each Clan's pyre has been. The future has shown me that. Tears flowed down my smoke covered face.

A slaughter. Just as I knew it would be. History records this bloody battle correctly. History has it right. I wander the field, trying to be careful of where I place each step. I check every Scot I can find. None are alive. I walk miles working a grid pattern to make sure I miss no one. No Jamie. No Murtagh. If I found one, I'd find the other I knew. Dusk is fast approaching. I will have to find someplace to sleep and hopefully something to eat soon.

I see a church and there are British soldiers in front of it. Looks like a camp. As hungry as I am I want nothing to do with them. I keep my distance and eventually find the road and head north. I will go back to Lallybroch. Jamie's home. Without my Jamie. Jenny and Ian will know what to do. I walk like I am going to the gallows. No life to my step. My head down and tears falling.

It is almost dark. I don't want to stop. I just want to keep going. One foot in front of the other. That much closer to my husband's home. The only home I have ever really had. I hear a wagon but I don't look up. The man speaks to me. Asks me if I am well? I look up. He has a kind face. It is a wagon full of hay. He asks me if I would like to ride with him for awhile. He is headed north. I nod my head and climb up on the seat beside him. He reaches under the seat and hands me his leather bag with ale and fishes a stale roll from a brown sac. He breaks it in half and hands half to me. Then thinks twice and reaches back into the bag, handing me an apple as well.

"Thank you," I say. "Best meal I have had in days. My name is Claire. Claire Fraser," and I smile a very weak smile.

Buried beneath the hay, his eyes open. Beautiful blue eyes like the sea his wife has always told him. "Claire. My healer. You have found me. I ken ya would," he whispers. He closes his eyes and listens. Her words are like music to his ears.


	2. Chapter 2 - Lallybroch

Outlander: Short Story Dreaming Chapter 2 Lallybroch  
All characters are not mine and belong to D. Gabaldon. I am just tweaking them.

"Jenny," I screamed. "Ian. Mrs. Crook. Help," I shouted. "I need help. Jamie's hurt." Jenny and Mrs. Crook came flying out the front door. Little Jamie and wee Maggie not far behind. Fergus came running around the corner of the house. Moments later Ian came into the yard from the same direction as Fergus.

Duncan McLeod hopped off the wagon and helped me excavate my husband. I was throwing hay everywhere in an effort to find him. I had climbed over the seat of the wagon into the bed before it had even come to a stop. I found his beautiful face. I brushed the few stray pieces from it and said, "We're here Jamie. Home. Lallybroch." He opened those beautiful baby blues and smiled. A weak smile, but a smile none the less. Home.

I kissed him. Hard. He was never leaving my sight again. Ever. Never. Not while I had breath still in me. His smile was still weak but got a little bigger as his hand cupped my face. I don't think he was going to let me out of his sight any time soon either.

I turned to Murtagh as he popped up from under the hay on the other side of me, "Do you need help getting down or can you manage?" I asked him.

"Aye. Fergus, lend us a hand here," he grumbled but gave me a smile as he worked is way to the end of the wagon where the tail gate had been lowered and Fergus was waiting to help him. Happy to be alive, I think. Weren't we all? He was glad to be back as well.

Two days ago Mr. McLeod, while still driving the wagon, had asked over our meal of shared bread and ale, where I was headed.

"An estate North of here," I had sadly replied. "Broch Tuarach. Some call it Lallybroch. It is my husband's home. His family is there." My head hung low and tears started to roll down my cheeks.

"Your husband would be James Fraser then?" he asked.

"How do you know that name?" I replied wiping the tears from my face with my extremely dirty sleeve so I could see the man's face more clearly. I looked hard at the face. I did not recognize it. I did not know this man nor the name he given me.

"Red Jamie, he's fair famous 'round here. What with the posters 'n all, it's hard no' to ken him," he stated. "You say'n your his wife? You don'na sound Scots," he added. A small smile was starting to forming on his lips.

"I'm not. I'm English. We've been married two years now. I went back to Colluden, to the battlefield, to try and find him. I walked the whole field. Tried to scare away those awful black crows too. I could not find Jamie nor his Godfather, Murtagh Fraser," I sniffed in reply and tears started to stream down my face. My husband was dead. I just wanted to crawl away somewhere and die. Then I would be with my Jamie forever. I couldn't though, Jamie had made me promise to live, to survive for the sake of our unborn child. His living legacy. "I am going home to inform Jenny and Ian. It will break their hearts to hear Jamie is dead."

That's when Mr. McLeod turned the horse and wagon off the road and stopped near a small stream. "I need to water the horse and give it a wee rest," he'd said.

I must say, I was starting to get a little nervous until Mr. McLeod reached under the wagon seat and removed a bucket. I was always nervous around men when on my own since my dealings with Jamie's Uncle Dougal. I never felt in control around men any more. Mr. McLeod had seemed nice enough when he offered me the ride. I had been so tired. And he had, after all, shared his food. This stopping, however, made me uncomfortable. He hopped down off the bench and walked around to my side of the wagon. He placed an hand on the bench next to me and asked, "Would ya mind check'n on your husband while I look after the horse. He and his godfather are buried under the hay in the wagon bed." He winked at me then turned and walked away toward the stream to fill the bucket with water taking the lantern with him.

Whhhaaattt? That damned man had known who I was when he picked me up off the side of the road. He knew he had Jamie and Murtagh in the back and had said nothing to me until now. Not very funny. Not very funny at all. But I had a huge grin on my face as I scrambled over the bench seat's back and into the bed of the wagon.

"Jamie's the one that needs tend'n," Murtagh said shaking his head when he appeared out of nowhere in the back covered with hay. "He's got a nasty wound from an English Soldier's bayonet. I'll do for now. God Lass, you're a sight for sore eyes. Jamie said you were gone, through the Stones, but I ken better. The Lad will be over the moon to see ya. Let's see if we can find 'em, aye?"

I buried my hands and arms in the hay feeling for my husband. I found him quickly. I uncovered his face and spent the next several minutes covering it with kisses. "You're alive," I kept repeating over and over again. Jamie got his arms around me and pulled me into a bear hug, stroking my hair and whispering "How?" I just kept kissing and petting my husbands face as I held it in my hands and he kept hugging me and stroking my hair; we simply could not keep from touching each other.

"Your nose, it's broken," I said when I finally broke from him. "I'll need to set it. It's best if I do it now before it starts to heal. Do you remember when it happened?"

"About three minutes after I last saw you. One of the soldiers I was fight'n at the cottage hit me with his sword hilt," was his reply. His eyes softened as he placed his hand on my belly. I nodded my head and he managed a little bigger smile.

Mr. McLeod return with the lantern and the bucket of water, which was for me, not for the horse. When I lifted Jamie's kilt and saw the wound on his leg I forgot any form of modesty and removed one of my petticoats. I tore several large pieces and then handed the rest to Mr. McLeod to start tearing into strips. The wound was at least 8 inches long, ran from his groin to mid-thigh. It would need stitches for sure. The best I could do now was clean it well, bandage it and hope it didn't fester on the trip home. Jenny and I could work our magic when we got him back to Lallybroch.

When I had finished with what I could do for Jamie, I turned my attention to Murtagh. He had several minor wounds but three that would require stitches. One in his side, one through his shoulder and one looked like a hatchet in his calf muscle. Looking at it I thought Murtagh might have a limp when the healing was done. I cleaned and bandaged them. The shoulder looked like a bullet wound but would not know for sure until we were home and I had better light. I did not want to be digging around in it now. It was not bleeding heavily. We needed to get going. Get back to Lallybroch as safely and as quickly as we could. I kissed them both and then Mr. McLeod and I buried them back under the hay and we continued our journey.

Now that we were here, we managed to get both men into the kitchen. Murtagh sat on a stool near the fire. Mrs. Crook had given him a bowl of porridge and he was all consumed with it. Jamie, I had them lay him on the table. It took several hours to clean and stitch his leg then clean and check the rest of his body. He required another couple of stitches for a sword wound through his arm. His leg hurt so much he had not even noticed it was there. I checked his nose and found it still set; the two black eye made him look like a raccoon though I don't mention this in front of Ian or Jenny as Scotland does not have any; they are native to North America. I discovered 2 broken fingers when I was washing the grim from his hands and splinted them. Jenny and I were so focused on Jamie that we had almost forgotten poor Murtagh. When I remembered, I turned and found him quite content. Seems he had made Mrs. Crook and the Widow MacNab very happy. Mrs. Crook was shoving food at him; he had eaten two bowls of porridge and was on his fifth bannock. Mary MacNab said she was cleaning Murtagh's wounds for Jenny and I; what it amounted to was a simple sponge bath. It had needed to be done. It is quite possibly the cleanest I have ever seen the man. He did not seem to mind either. I even caught a smile pass between the two of them.

We decide not to move Jamie tonight. He will sleep on the table with me beside him as I will not leave his side. I even give myself a quick wash in the kitchen. Jamie falls asleep almost immediately after we finish with him, which gives me a chance to drink some broth and take a couple of bits of a bannock.

Murtagh is fairly mobile and goes upstairs to sleep. Jenny finds him a bed. We three are beat; we have not had a decent nights sleep or meal in days, too many to count. We are home. All that would all change now. We were safe for a while but I knew the British would soon start searching the Highlands for traitors. Our time here was limited. We needed to sleep, eat, heal and plan our next move.

Mr. McLeod, it turns out is the Black Smith in Broch Mordha, only an hours travel from here. He will not stay but opts rather continue his journey home. His wagon at Lallybroch would cause a stir if he stayed too long. People would notice, questions would be asked. If asked he will say he was shoeing a horse, the big black one as he points to Donas. That's why he was at Colluden. Shoeing some British Officer's horse, a Lord Melton. Lord Melton was the same man that had paid him to smuggle Jamie back to Lallybroch. Who the hell is Lord Melton and why had he freed Jamie?

I was tired. I could hardly keep my eyes open as I covered my husband with a quilt Jenny had left before she whispered "Good Night" as she left the kitchen. I crawled under it as I laid down on the table beside Jamie. He was asleep on his back, hand folded across his chest. I pulled the arm closest to me loose and laid my head on his shoulder. His arm hugged me closer to him and he opened one eye and whispered, "I love ya Sassenach. I am so happy to have ya in my arms. I am too tired to hear why you are still here. You'll have to save it for morning, aye? But my heart is full from the gladness of ya be'n here. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, set his other hand on my stomach and we fell sound asleep.


	3. Chapter 3 - Day One

Claire woke early before light and as Jamie seemed to be sleeping soundly, Claire slipped out from under his arm and off the table. She placed her hand on Jamie's forehead and it felt warm, but with the injuries he had sustained and almost three full days in the back of that wagon jolting down the road, she had been expecting much worse. She moved her hand from Jamie's forehead to his wrist and took his pulse. Nice and steady. She could not ask for better. The house was still quiet, but soon it would be as busy as an active bee hive. The Queen Bee, Jenny, would be down at first light and Lallybroch would be in full swing; another day in the life of it's inhabitants. Jenny and Mrs. Crook would need the kitchen back and that included the table she and Jamie had used as a bed. Claire wanted to move him this morning, before breakfast was started. She would see to their room and have a quick wash. She also wanted to find and speak to Fergus. He had traveled all the way from Culloden to Lallybroch on Donas and she had worried about him from the moment he left and wanted to find out if everything had gone according to plan; if he had met with any trouble along the way.

Claire released Jamie's wrist and replaced it gently on his chest. As she turned to quietly slip away, she felt him grab her wrist. She turned to see his eyes were open, looking at her. "Just where do you think ya are go'n at this wee hour of the morning, leaving me without my good morning kiss?" he asked.

Claire smiled and place a gentle kiss on Jamie's lips. It never got old, kissing him. It quickened her heart this time as much as the first and warmed her insides with desire. Jamie was, after all, a morning person and her body responded to the routine. She drove the thought from her head. Jamie had a leg injury, that needed to take precedence plus they were in the kitchen; anyone could walk in at any moment. "First, I want to check on our room and make sure you are moved before breakfast. I don't want anyone cooking on top of you. We also might want to work a little magic to make sure things are fine with you and Murtagh; I want to check the injuries you both incurred at some point today," I said rubbing my hands together and creating a little blue glow. "I want to catch things early and encourage the healing since I am nowhere near as skilled a healer as Master Raymond. I also want to find Fergus and our little Fay; I only had a brief moment with them before they were ushered off to bed last night. I need to find out how things went for Fergus and if Fay was any trouble on their journey. He is such a brave and wonderful son. I am so very proud of him and know you are as well. We must be sure to tell him," I said with a nod of convection from my head. "And just how do you feel?" I asked. "You slept well, I think, yes? You only feel a little warm, running just a low grade fever, I believe which is not bad considering everything you have been through. Are you hungry? Though I think that is a silly question for me to ask you or Murtagh; you two are always ready to eat. We'll get you fed after you are moved upstairs. When you are settled in bed, I will bring the children to see you. I know you want nothing more than to see Fergus and hold Fay. Lie back down and rest until I return." I gave him another brief kiss and leave the room.

I quietly leave the kitchen, cross the main hall and climb two flights of stairs to the third floor where the kids rooms are. I thought I knew which room Fergus and Faith would be in. The same room Jenny had placed me in three years ago when I first came to Lallybroch. Jamie and I were not married when we had arrived. Jamie had us hand-fasted before we arrived but Jenny would not even allow us to sleep on the same floor, let alone in the same room until we were properly wed. I placed a hand on the the latch and opened the door. Fergus' eyes flew open, then he smiled when he saw me, sat up and opened his arms for a hug. I walked over, knelt down and hugged him. Much too hard and too long for a twelve year old boy, but he allowed it. I think I was hugging him for me more than for him. I kissed him on the forehead as I released him. "Your father and I are very proud of how brave you were Fergus. What you did was so very courageous. You saved both your sister and Lallybroch. Did you have any trouble with Faith or Donas? Please tell me that strangers did not bother you on the road?" I asked anxiously.

"No Milady," Fergus replied. "I gave Faith a drop of the medicine every time I fed her just as you told me. And I changed her before I fed her every time. Donas was very good with her as well. Very gentle and never tried to bite her the whole journey. I did not get lost once either Milady. I think Madame Jenny was surprised to see us however and she has been taking care of my little sister since we have arrived." He nodded at the other bed against the far wall. "I am so very glad to see you, Milord and even Monsieur Murtagh. You will make them better, yes? Is the battle over? Did we win?"

I stood up and placed my finger to my lips and walked over to the other bed. Faith was still sound asleep. I ran my fingers through her curly mop and brushed my finger down her cheek. I won this one. She resembles me more than Jamie. She had been born with wavy red hair just like her father's but it had changed and was now a nest of curls like mine but a deep auburn color mixed in with my brown. Jamie said my hair had all the colors of a flowing burn; our dear Faith's had all the colors of a Rowan Tree in Fall. She was not quite 2 years old, but already you could see she had my long, fine fingers and large feet as well as my rounded face as opposed to Jamie's much more angular, viking bone structure. She had his cat shaped Fraser eyes and they were the same beautiful blue as Jamie's. Some children's eyes change color before they reach three but I had a feeling Faiths were going to stay that beautiful blue like the sea – her fathers eyes; I could stare into them for hours. Her mouth is all Beauchamp with small full lips. She has a pair of dimples; I have not a clue where they came from. If my luck holds out she will not have the Fraser thick headed stubbornness either. I would not wake her now, I will let her sleep awhile longer; she would be up soon enough, my little bundle of energy. I whisper, "Thank you Master Raymond. I owe you." I stood up, smooth my bodice and skirts to leave. I still had to move Jamie.

I walked back to Fergus and told him to go back to sleep, that it was still early and I would see them at breakfast. I told him after breakfast, I would take them to see their father. He smiled as only Fergus can, using his whole face not just his mouth, warming your heart with it's gentleness. I helped him settle back down, drew the cover up over him and tucked him in. My hand cupped his cheek and he closed his eyes. I slipped out the door, down a flight of stairs and into the guest's room. Jamie had signed a writ of seisin for Lallybroch over to his nephew, little Jamie, Jenny and Ian's oldest to save the families heritage. He had sent Fergus to carry it along with Faith to Lallybroch and to safety when we realized everything was lost at Culloden. The writ of seisin prevents the British from taking the land from the boy because he was not old enough to have fought in the war and therefor not a traitor to the crown. Lallybroch would remain Fraser-Murray land. Jamie would not sleep in the Laird's room again because I knew he felt he was not entitled to; Lallybroch was no longer his. And my husband could be a stubborn man when his mind was made up.

Jenny is amazing. The room was spotless and there was even hot water in the washing urn. Where had she found the time? I rolled up my sleeves and did a poor job at pining up my hair to give myself a quick wash. I picked up the new bar of soap left next to the towel and, even though I already knew, I gave it a whiff. Yes. Jenny had left a bar of family soap for me. I smiled. Not one of the fancy perfumed french soap bars she always leaves for me to wash with; the french soap has always been a dig to remind me she does not approve of my marriage to her brother Jamie. Finally, proof that Jenny had accepted me as family. This was a long, hard fought battle between us. I could not wait to tell Jamie. The fact the the two most important women in his life were not close, has always upset him, though he has never really spoken about it. He has wished for us to be friends for so very long. When Jamie had first brought me to Lallybroch three years ago, she had called me an English Whore and had declared I was out to steal her brother from her. When we came back from France, we developed a respect for each other but no more that that. We were not friends, not by a long shot, but the family bar of soap was a giant step in the right direction. I would take whatever Jenny would give me for the sake of my husband, whom I adore.

After quickly washing my face and arms and then chewing a birch stick to clean my teeth, I feel rejuvenated. I don't even try to make sense of my hair. I tried to pick some of the larger pieces of straw out of it and end up with a couple of pieces of twigs and leaves as well. I try and wipe the front of my dress down with the towel I dried my face off with throw my hands up in frustration. I give up and return back downstairs and into the kitchen. Mrs. Crook is already up stoking the fire. We exchanged greeting and I walk to Jamie and helped him to sit up. Murtagh is already on what turns out to be his 2nd bowl of porridge. He looks up, smiles at me and says "I ken what your going to ask. I'm fine. Sore, tired and hungry but I am working on filling my belly now, thanks to Mrs. Crook," and shoots her a nod of appreciation. "I saw Fergus last night before he went up to bed but not the lass. Is she well?" he inquired as he tipped his head toward Jamie and added, "I was worried."

"Yes," I started to say, "I just came down from seeing them. Fergus is awake but Fay is still sleeping. Fergus said he had no trouble at all..." and I stopped as Jenny entered the kitchen with Ian. Jamie looked me in the eye to let me know he was relieved to hear the children were both alright. I smiled, pointed at him then my eye and then mouthed the word 'later' and pointed upstairs. Hand signing had come in handy as a way for us to communicate without others knowing or understanding. We had been using it infrequently for years.

I turned and greeted Ian and Jenny with a "Good Morning" and received a cordial nod of acknowledgment from Jenny and a smile from Ian. "We need to be moving ya from the kitchen table then, brother. First thing. Today is bread day. We are happy to have you three back safe and sound but we have a schedule to keep, aye? I ken Jamie and Murtagh still need to recover but they need to do that upstairs, in bed, and Claire, I ken you want to nurse them and visit with Fergus and Faith, but I need you to spend some time in the house garden. It is fairly run over with weeds, and I have'na had a chance to get to that. I think there is still time to plant some more herbs, garlic and onions as well. Fergus is expected to help Rabbie MacNab in the barn. He kens. Everyone pitches in, aye? Is everyone agreed then?"

No one said a word. No one was going to argue with Jenny in her head of household role, barking orders like a well trained colonel. Jenny tapped the kitchen window and waved her hand. The next thing we know, the back door to the kitchen opened and two field hands come in. "Take my brother upstairs. Ian will show you which room to place him in, then come back down for a fresh bannock before ya begin your day, aye?" Jenny orders rather than asks. The two strapping young men, maybe 14 or 15 came over and each took an arm over their shoulder, and with Jamie struggling to help by hopping on one leg, they left the kitchen. It took almost half an hour of teamwork and several brief rests to get Jamie up the stairs and and on to the bed. I went downstairs with the lads and brought up more hot water in the urn and a couple of hot bannocks for Jamie and Murtagh to share, and proceeded to give Jamie a sponge bath. I must have emptied the dirty water out the window a dozen times. The man was filthy, covered in mud and blood. I did not ask whose blood, hoping that some of it at least belonged to Black Jack Randall; there would be time to ask later. The kilt and shirt were ruined and I piled them in a corner to see how Jenny thought it best to dispose of them. We had to be careful and not leave signs for the British to find that Jamie and Murtagh, know traitors, were here at Lallybroch. I had Jamie lean over the table with the bowl and washed his hair, pulling leaves, twigs and straw out of it. I almost thought it would have been easier just to cut his hair but could not bring myself to remove his beautiful locks. Finally, I had removed all of the mud that covered the beautiful red hair and I stopped scrubbing Jamie's scalp raw as Jamie swore I was doing. I sat him back down on the bed and while I toweled dry his hair Jamie placed his hand on my belly and spoke to our next family member. I knew it would be another daughter but Jamie insisted the child was going to be a boy and I did not want to take that away from him. I knew it would not matter to my husband the minute the child was placed in his arms, just as it had been with Faith. When I was pregnant with our first child Jamie would lay beside me in bed and talk to 'his son' telling him all sorts of stories while rubbing, tapping and kissing my belly. He would get so excited when our yet to be born Faith would kick his hand, and laugh with such a happy, carefree sound I had almost wished I could stay pregnant forever just to keep Jamie that happy. How different life would have been without Master Raymond. I clicked my tongue against my teeth to stop the thought.

I put a clean night shirt on Jamie and helped him into bed, covering his feet with the clean sheets and quilts. I had left the window half open to allow for some fresh air in the room and did not want Jamie to develop a chill. I rolled his shirt up and exposed the wound on his thigh. I rubbed my hands together and like a spark created a blue glow around them. My hands heated up. I looked up at Jamie and said "Ready?" Jamie nodded and I lowered my hands so they hovered over the wound and Jamie placed his hand over mine. We slowly worked our way down the wound, while I mentally pictured the muscles, healing, strengthen, and red oxygenated blood flowing through the tissue. I did not see much infection, and with Jamie's heat we made quick work of the evil germs. I examined the leg after we'd finished and the area around the stitches looked less red and inflamed. I gently poked the wound with my finger and Jamie did not wince nearly as much. I checked his fingers and the sword wound in his arm and I did not see any sign of infection though the arm wound was clean through the muscle so I did add a little blue glow to encourage things along in the healing department. I would keep my fingers crossed.

I leaned forward and gave him a kiss and looked deep into his eyes. "Never, ever try to send me away again. Do I make myself clear?" I said. "This would not have ended well if the bloody stones had taken me. They pulled me in and spit me right back out, Jamie. Like they knew I was not suppose to leave you. Master Raymond said I was Your Healer. Made for You. You need to promise me, you will not EVER ask me to go near those horrible stones again. Please Jamie." and I looked sternly into his eyes. I knew he saw I was serious.

He nodded. "Never again Sassenach. I do'na think my heart could take the missing of ya again. I only wanted to die when I rode away from Craigh na Dun knowing ya were gone from me forever. For what it is worth, you are stuck with me," and he kissed me back.

"I will hold you to your word, my extremely stubborn husband," and I poked him in the chest with my finger and smiled. "I will make you regret it if you ever ask me to again."

Jamie just raised his eyebrows at that.

"Now, Murtagh, lets see what we can do for Faith's favorite 'Unkkie', shall we? I said as I straightened up and walked toward him. He was sitting in a chair by the fire. He looked up when I said his name. "I want to look at the wound on the back of your leg first, while Jamie is sitting up and can help me. I helped him walk over to the bed and gave him the back of a chair to lean against. He put the leg up on Jamie's lap and together we leaned over and looked at it while Murtagh grumbled. I did not like the way it looked. I put a hand on his forehead and it was quite hot. "Murtagh, why did you not tell me you were not felling well? You were eating breakfast so I just assumed you were feeling fine. This wound is infected, germs are waging war in there," I scolded. "You are going to straight to bed when I am done with you. You need to stay off this leg, do you hear me?" and I walked around to the front of the chair and wagged my finger at him. He looked into my face sheepishly and said "aye, Claire." A Murtagh version of 'yes ma'am'. Score one for the healer. Old dogs can be taught new tricks. With Jamie's help, Murtagh got a fair share of 'healing' from me on his leg, side and especially the gun shot wound. I had managed to remove the bullet but the wound was weeping puss so I cleaned it again, placed a fresh poultice and re-bandaged it. Murtagh refused to go back to bed but said he would sit in the chair by the fire in the room with Jamie and allow me to check on him when I checked on Jamie throughout the day.

I had just finished washing my hands and was tucking the quilt in around Jamie when the door flew open and in rushed Fergus, Wee Jamie and Little Maggie with Faith tagging along behind them running as fast as her little legs would carry her. Fergus immediately climbed up on the bed beside Jamie, resting his head on his father's shoulder. When Faith caught up and saw me she screamed MAMA, ran up and hugged my legs. She then lifted her arms to be picked up, which I did. She gave me a kiss on the lips, grabbed me around the neck and hugged me until I thought my neck might break. Then she spied her father and screamed DADA, DADA right in my ear, let go of my neck and kicked to be let down. Instead I turned and before I set her down on the bed I told her she had to gentle and quiet because Daddy had owwies and I set her down by her father's feet. Faith, very carefully, crawled on hands and knees until she was right up next to her father and tried to wedge herself between Fergus and Jamie. She knelt next to him and placed her small hands on each cheek and asked, "Where owwies DADA? Fay kiss and make better and she smiled at him and kissed him on the lips. We are so blessed I thought as I ran my fingers through my husbands wet hair, while he held our daughter in a bear hug smothering her with kisses. I placed my hand on my belly in a feeble attempt to include our newest and yet unborn family member and a tear rolled down my cheek. So blessed. If Fergus and Faith were up on the bed then Wee Jamie and Maggie wanted up as well. Wee Jamie was demanding a story from 'Unkkie Jamie' and Jamie was thrilled to tell them the tale of the 'the fairy in the tree'. A story his mother and then Jenny had repeated to him when he was young. I took a minute to go down to the kitchen and brew some tea for both the men. I would slip a little something into it to help them sleep. Rest was one thing they were in desperate need of in order to help them heal. I also would bring some porridge for Jamie as I could not remember the last time he ate anything substantial. I kissed the top of my husband's head and left for the kitchen. Day one of post Colluden life for us was well under way.


	4. Chapter 4 - Hiding in Plain Site

It has been over two weeks now. Jamie and Murtagh are getting stronger. Healing. Jamie's leg had received the more severe wound out of the two of them but it had responded well to treatment and is healing cleanly and quickly. It is partly due to the fact that I threatened to withhold child visitations if my husband did not follow 'his healers' instructions verbatim. Murtagh wounds are not nearly as critical as Jamie's leg but Murtagh does have several of them, all fairly equal in severity. Plus the bullet wound to his shoulder just will not heal properly. It needs constant attention. Daily. I am cleaning it every morning and every night and yet it is always weeping puss.

Jamie finally asks to see the bullet. He looks it over, turning it in his fingers then stops and utters an "Ah". Both Ian and Murtagh come over to look and the results are two more "Ah's".

"What?" I ask. "Why the 'Ah's?"

"See the scoring across the top, Sassenach? The ' **X** '?" He asks me. Jenny and Fergus walk over to take a look also.

"Yes," I say. "What of it?"

"That ' **X** ' usually indicates a dirty bullet. Someone has marked it," Jamie says.

Jenny must have looked confused because Ian adds, "A dirty bullet is exactly what it sounds like it is. Someone scored the bullet on purpose then rubbed manure into the groves. That way, when the bullet enters the body, so does the excrement and you will die from the fever you will get from the wound. Even a graze from a bullet wound becomes deadly with a dirty bullet. When Jamie and I served as Mercenaries in France, this kind of thing was pretty common."

I had heard a story of this sort of thing from a doctor I served with during the war. He was always very careful to look at the bullets after the surgery was over. He would step up the antibiotics regiment if he found a modified bullet. I had thought he was just being a bit paranoid. I guess not. Some things never change. War truly is 'dirty'.

We needed to get the kids to bed so the adults could talk about the latest news. Word was that the British Soldiers had been seen in Inverness. They were getting closer. We were working on a plan but we could not all agree and now we would need to step up our agenda. We needed to be away from Lallybroch, all signs of us erased, before the British came calling.

Early on Jamie said we really only needed to find somewhere for Murtagh and himself, but one look at my face told him that was not going to happen; where you go, I go I told him once and for all. A decision had to be made tonight. If the original "Laird of Broch Tuarach" was found alive and living at Lallybroch, that would not bode well for Estate. The Deed of Sasine would be ignored. The British would have no qualms taking the land, everything and possibly everyone on it. Not to mention that "Red Jamie's" capture would be a celebrated event and I was not about to lose my husband to a hangman's noose.

Most of the ports were closed by the British Army now. The few that were still open were carefully watched. People coming in and and going out were scrutinized. Papers were closely examined, refused and people were being arrested and placed in prison without trials; Lairds and known Jacobite's, like Jamie, were going straight to the gallows all so the British Army could confiscate the land. There was no way to flee to Paris and cousin Jared. Thinking of Prince Charles made my blood boil; word was he was safely back in Italy. He had gotten out, fleeing like the coward he was leaving brave Scotsmen dead, imprisoned or in hiding. He had absolutely no honor.

One idea we had thought about was to try to travel into England and find a cottage or an Estate that might be looking for someone good with horses. To hide amongst the enemy, so to speak. Even with a wife of English birth, the risks for Jamie were too great. Jenny would not hear of it. She had lost her mother, father and two brothers, she was not going to loose Jamie as well. No, he needed to stay near, so that if he needed help, she could be there for him.

There was talk of a plan to take a cottage by the sea. If the soldiers came, Jamie and Murtagh could simply slip into a small fishing boat and row out to sea until the coast was clear. A lantern could be lit to signal the all clear. Jenny had never sailed with Jamie or she never would have suggested it.

I had told Jamie about during my war, how the Jews had been singled out and hunted by the Nazi's. If they were found, they were put in large prisons, where most of them were killed. There were kind people, willing to risk their lives to try and protect them. They would hide entire families in secret rooms in their homes behind secret panel doors. Some lived that way for years before being discovered. Lallybroch had no such secret rooms. The priest's hole was only large enough for two people.

There had been the idea of moving into one of the tenants cottages and posing as one of Lallybroch's 60 odd tenant farmers. But Jamie thought Lallybroch would be a prime target for the British and that the British soldiers might visit frequently in an attempt to gain control over the Estate, at least in the beginning. Jenny and Jamie shared enough physical similarities that if they were ever caught together, even under the guise of Landlord and tenant, the British Army would know who Jamie was, plain and simple. As much as we wanted to believe it, none of us could suppose the British Army was dim witted enough not to recognize "Red Jamie". Plus the tenants all knew Jamie; they knew and loved him as a lad and as their Laird. Their children had grown up knowing him as well. There was a chance that one of them would slip up somehow and expose Jamie, unwittingly. And if the soldiers caught Jamie on Fraser land, then Lallybroch would be taken and the Murray's homeless and/or in prison. So Option A was definitely not an option.

We had thought we might try the same thing, a tenants cottage somewhere else, perhaps closer to Broch Mordha. As a healer it might give me the possibility to earn a small supplemental income. I had reminded Jamie of his comment of leading a life of leisure after I had helped the cotter we'd met while on the road years ago. Living close to a town might provide the kind of traffic that would allow for that. It did, however, expose Jamie, and Murtagh, unnecessarily to untrustworthy types that might recognize them and turn them in for the reward money we knew was being offered for Jamie's capture. Also the closer to town, the increase in British soldier sightings and possible visits. So living in or near Broch Mordha, Option B, was out of the question.

All those had been ideas suggested, discussed and quickly ruled out. There were several other options still not ruled out. They were similar but deciding which was the best was tonight's vote. Basically Jamie, Murtagh, I and the children if possible, needed to be off Fraser land, and soon.

Ian had suggested a cave, not far from here. Jamie and Murtagh could stay there, at least until the British Visitation Schedule was learned. I did not like that idea at all. Fall would be here before we knew it and Winter would not be far behind. I would not have my husband sleeping anywhere without me, and I let it be known that I had no intention of sleeping this winter in a cold, dark cave, thank you very much. Especially with a small child and in the advanced stages of pregnancy or even after the birth, with a small infant. Jamie had just laughed at how emphatic I was about ruling out the cave. I actually think he thought it might have been a good plan. Men. Option C most definitely out.

Once the children were nestled all snug in their beds, stories told, kisses passed out, fires banked and candles put out, the adults all rendezvoused in the Laird's study. Drams were poured all around and Jamie told us his latest scheme.

Angus McLeod, the blacksmith that had been responsible for Jamie and Murtagh's passage back to Lallybroch after Culloden, lives in Broch Mordha. His blacksmith shop is set up on the edge of town and he lives there with his wife and bairn. His folks had passed away several years ago and he has kept the small place located close to Lallybroch land, in the foothills. Jamie knew Angus traveled back to the farm every once and awhile to keep gypsies or beggars from settling there or someone or something from stealing his livestock. He was sure Angus would be agreeable to letting us stay there; to keep an eye on things for him. He would just need to speak to the him to make arrangements. I wanted to see it first before making any decisions.

We sent Fergus the next morning on Blue to deliver a message to Angus McLeod. He sent back a note to met him the next morning at the gate to the farm.

It was decided that it would be more discreet and attract less attention if it was just Jamie and I rather than our entire extended family that came to meet Angus. It was almost three miles from Lallybroch and just under six from Broch Mordha. Jamie wanted to walk rather than ride, to work at strengthening his leg. It was healing well, but this would be the farthest he had walked since his return from Culloden and I did not want him to overextend himself. I had Fergus saddle Blue and we lead him along with us. If Jamie tired we could just ride the rest of the way. Jamie's wound was also being rubbed by the breeks he now had to wear instead of his kilt. He still had all twenty stitches that the pants rubbed. I was not going to let my hard headed husband break open that leg wound again. Healers orders I told Jamie or Blue and I would go alone.

We stopped at the gate of a field that holds a small herd of Highland cattle; those beautiful red shaggy beasts with such sweet faces and great long horns. There was also a flock of Blackface sheep and a handful of goats, all grazing amongst each other. They cautiously watched us. There are two dogs that look similar to a modern border collie, only they are red like the cattle.

There is a sudden, shrill whistle. We turn and see Angus approaching on a very large draft horse and the dogs immediately come to meet him at the gate. I think Jamie can barely look over the back of this beautiful bay horse and could not help but admire the animal and his feathered hooves. It had to be at least 18 hands high. A beast, if ever there was one. Even Angus had to use the fence to dismount.

"Meet "Miss Molly and Theo" Angus introduces us to the dogs as they sit at Angus' feet. He opens a brown sack and takes out two large joint bones and hands one to each of the dogs. They grab them and take off running. My eyes follow them. They run to what looks to be the remains of a cottage that has been burnt to the ground.

"That was my parent's house, the one my sister, two brothers and I grew up in," Angus says. "There was a fire two years after my parents passed away. Probably gypsies passing through. Since my family and I live in Broch Mordha, I never bothered to rebuild it and I have the dogs to keep the beggars away and protect the herd. Now the goats climb the walls and sheep use it for shelter when the wind blows," he says completing his thought.

I turn a full circle and see no signs of another cottage and turn and give my husband a questioning look.

"Your husband spoke to me about the use of my Grandfather's home, Mistress Fraser," Angus answering my unasked question.

I look again. There is a small lean-to shelter and a covered trough feeder off to one side. I scan the field once more and see nothing else, except one rather large apple tree, certainly no other cottage. At the far end of the property, if you follow the fence line as it disappears into a line of trees at the base of a small ridge running east-west. We walk toward the back of the field toward the ridge. About 10 yards from the line of scrub trees, Angus and Jamie stop walking. Jamie stands with his hand folded across his chest watching me to see what I do. Games is it? I am a master at solving puzzles. I smile at him in answer to his challenge.

I hand him Blue's lead and Jamie bends down, hobbles and releases him to graze with Angus' beast.

"Do I hear running water?" I ask looking at Angus.

He smiles and turns to Jamie and says, "A smart lass, aye. She can listen. Can ya smell the water too?"

I sniff. "Yes, I can smell a wetness, rotting wood and moss maybe? I also feel the dampness. I never really thought about those senses being involved before. Very interesting." I turn and smile at Jamie. He gives me one of his 'owl' winks. "Does the stream run all the way to the west to the ocean, I wonder?" I ask myself out loud. "Where there is water, there is a house…is that what you are telling me?" I ask turning back to Angus.

"You tell me," he says and moves to stand next to Jamie.

"Alright, no hints then, I shall find it myself. It must be here, near the water…" I state as I walk toward the tree line, placing my hand on a rather large rock. I know we must be close or we would not have stopped here. I turn and walk east some two hundred yards and see nothing that resembles a trail of any kind. I turn walk back, allowing my hand to drag lightly over the rock as I pass it, and continue west all the way to the fence line, about one hundred yards. Nothing that resembles a trail that way either. I walk back and stand next to Jamie and look up and down the treeline. What am I missing? Eureka! There it is, a marker, or at least what I think is a trail marker. The rather large rock, which is over seven feet tall and almost as wide right at the start of the tree line; it is the proverbial ' **X** ' that marks the spot, I'm sure of it. The rock is rather inconspicuous for such a large object; its natural colors meld into the landscape and you don't really notice it at all. Your eye skips right over it as you pan the tree line; it is hidden in plain sight. I walk to it, placing my hand on the stone and circle back around the north side of it and behind it is what I am certain is a very discreetly marked path. Smaller rocks of various shapes and sizes are scattered every five to six yards and I follow them. I must be correct for I hear Jamie laughing and someone slapping someone on the back.

At the end of the winding, secret path you meet with a dead end in the form of the rock face of the ridge. Nothing again. There are trees and what looks like wild raspberry bushes. After walking left and right I find what I am looking for. There is another sizable rock, about four feet in height. It looks like it came loose and rolled down the side of the rock face. I turn and walk passed it and no more than six yards and because there is another rock right there, I find a ledge that leads up. I would have completely missed it if it were not for the rock and that I was looking for them. With an uphill climb that includes two switchbacks, the cottage is suddenly right in front of you; built right into the side of the hill. 'Ledaig' or Safe Haven is the name Angus' grandmother had named it, Angus said. I turn around, putting my back to the cottage and look straight into tree tops. I can barely see the field. I have to bend and move my head to find a view through the branches. We are at least another one hundred yards behind the ' **X** ' rock and completely hidden from view. I look down the face of the ridge and I will take a guess and say we are at least eighteen feet up. I am in awe. How in the world did anyone ever find this place, let alone build it?

The front is very similar to a rock wall; it is set back inside something like a cave opening so there is a small protective ledge over the doorway. The face is made of various shapes and sizes of stacked and mortared rocks with a small window on either side of the door. There is a "rock bench", under one window. The door is really quite clever; it's round, well not really round, more like an upside down horseshoe and made of weathered wood with the same colors as the rocks. Oak maybe? And it does not attract your eye because it is not the strong, right angles of a regular front door; it does not fight nature but rather works with it. The windows are unusual as well and mimic the rocks colors. The windows use what looks like the bottoms of glass bottles, in assorted colors, in an octagonally shaped pattern, only with rounded, softer edges because of the roundness of the glass bottles. I am standing there admiring the workmanship when I hear the men approach and I feel Jamie's arms surround me and he rests his chin on my shoulder. I pat his arm with one hand and my other reaches up and finds his cheek and rests there. He moves his face and places a light kiss on my palm then turns back to face the house. His hand drops down an inch from my waist and spreads across my slightly pooching belly. Our little secret still because it's too soon for me to be showing enough that anyone would notice. Not yet four months by Jamie's count; the baby should come in November.

"Smart and beautiful. James Fraser, you are a lucky man," Angus says with a laugh in his voice.

Jamie moves my hair from the side of my neck and kisses me there as well. "Aye" he says in agreement. "That she is. I think I shall keep her," and he quickly releases me, skirts around my hand that tries to slap him as he lands a pat on my ass, runs to and opens the door, bowing and exclaiming, "ladies first." I pat his cheek as I enter.

The house is not as small as it appears from the outside. The main room is a decent size. Jamie's is 6' 3" tall so he has the arm span of approximately the same length. The room is four Jamie's by five Jamie's when I ask him to stand in the middle of the room with his arms out. My husband has lived with me long enough to know when not to even ask the question, just do what I ask, and he does – with a smile, I will add. With that measurement methodology in mind, the room must be a little over 24' x 30'. The Jamie method of measurement puts the ceiling at approximately eight feet high. The floor is wooden and there is cut timber along the length of the room on both sides of the wall. It has a large stone fireplace on one wall, that looks like is part of the natural rock, again mortared together. There is a large table that must have been used for cooking and/or for meals, further toward the back. It blocks the path to a back door. The other wall has a three shelf bookcase, with a few books, toward the front. Almost opposite the fireplace is an arched opening and I poke my head in. It's a bedroom; it has one large double bed and a corner cabinet that looks like a wardrobe. In the back there is a large corner cabinet that still has dishes and bowls in place, although all are covered in dust. Both windows are in this room with shutters on the inside, and they are, in fact, bottles that make up the glass…but the necks have been cut off. Not broken but cut and with precision. They almost all exactly the same length and are flush with the wall so the shutters will close with a bar that drops in place to latch them. I run a finger around the glass end. It is smooth, like it has been sanded. They all are. There is a small console table with a shelf underneath on the same wall as the fireplace only close to the window. And as I mentioned, there is a door at the back of the room.

"It has two more bedrooms," Angus says.

I turn in a circle. I see no other doors. I walk to the back and open the door and it is a pantry of sorts, full of dusty shelves and cooking and cleaning bowls and pots. "Look for a hidden door, Fraser," I say to myself out loud and smile. I start knocking on the walls of the pantry, especially hard on the ones below the bottom shelves; they make the most sense to be hidden doors. Nothing. No hollow sound. I stand back up, brush off my skirts and walk back to the large table and sit on it. Both men are standing there, by the door watching me. Jamie has a grin on his face. The man does challenge me, I must say. I hold up my hand, palm out to him to tell him I am not done looking yet. I walk to the wall with the arch and start knocking, listening and pushing very carefully. Nothing. Ooh, this is good. I turn and face the fireplace. And eye the little table, with a worn rug underneath. I look at the other side of the fireplace where there is nothing. I pick the table side. As I approach the wall, I see Angus' smile widen just a little out of the corner of my eye. I am looking on the correct wall and the correct side of the fireplace; a hidden door. I am warm and getting warmer. The table must be the key, the ' **X** '. As I approach the small table I notice a decorative needlepoint bell pull on the wall beside it. I give it a gentle pull and 'Pop' a piece of the wall slightly opens next to the firewood stacked in the firebox. I am red hot. I grab the edge and swing it open.

I turn to Jamie with a big smile on my face. Jamie is beaming ear to ear. My heart pulls with happiness. I do love this man so.

"You are in the wrong trade, Madame Healer," Angus says to me and throws his hands up in the air. "My grandfather, who built this, is smiling down on you." He turns and claps Jamie on the shoulder.

The cottage is amazing. Unlike anything I have ever seen before. I am seeing Angus' Grandfather in a totally new light. No wonder my husband trusts Angus McLeod. Jamie said Angus and Willie were great friends, just as Brian, Jamie and Willie's father had been friends with Malcolm, Angus's dad. When Willie died, Angus took Jamie under his wing and it seems they have looked out for each other ever since. Angus's Grandfather/Malcolm's father was a Stephen Taylor a British Soldier who was fighting against the Jacobite's. At some point, Officer Taylor became disenchanted with the British army, deserted and defected. He ended up on Fraser land, had learned to speak Gaelic like a native, fell in love and married a local widow named Margaret McLeod and took her last name to dodge the British Army's Defectors list. Margaret's first husband had been killed in one of the Jacobite skirmishes and had left her with three sons, two still living with her. Malcolm was the oldest of them and already married with two kids of his own. He built the now burnt cottage the goats used as a jungle gym. Seems Grandpa Taylor became a bit of a smuggler in order to provide for the family and found he had quite a knack for it. He had both British and Scottish contacts. He could smuggle in British contraband and smuggle out the Scottish. That explains a great deal as I look at Angus' grandfather's home.

The first hidden bedroom is maybe two Jamie's by two Jamie's or 12' x 12'. It has the same flooring, wall timber as the main room as well as a timber ceiling. There are three bolting bars for this door. It is prepared to keep out what is on the other side. You can see the rocks from the back of the chimney. That must be heating system for the bedroom. It's hard to get a real feel for it, it is so stuffed full of furniture. There are chairs, two more tables, two over sized stuffed chairs, rolled up rugs, candle holders, an oil lamp, a large kettle, chest of drawers, I think it's another double bed, four sleeping pallets lean against a wall and who knows what else. Behind the pallets must be another door. It's the only wall space clear enough.

"Let's see what is behind door number four, shall we?" I say as I turn to Jamie and Angus with my hand on the first pallet. They laugh as they move them.

This second hidden bedroom is almost equal in size to the first and has three single beds; one for each Malcolm and his two siblings I would guess. It is full of furniture as well tools and sealed barrels and a very small boat. It has the same ceiling, flooring, wall timber as the other hidden bedroom and the other half of the chimney for heat. Very clever.

"No door?" I turn to Angus and ask. "Wouldn't you want to be able to escape from this room if you needed to?"

"Mistress Fraser, do not disappoint me now," and Angus raises an eyebrow in challenge.

I scan the room again. All the wall space has beds or dressers against the walls except one corner where two beds are at right angles and against the wall so there is a square with nothing in it but a chair. A funny place for a chair. I walk over and remove the chair. Jamie comes over and lifts me by the waist and helps me over the bed and sets me down on the floor on the other side. Find the latch release I tell myself. There is a candle holder mounted to the wall. I don't recall seeing one anywhere else. There is a partially used candle in it. Clockwise or counterclockwise I ask myself. "Righty Tighty, Lefty Loosey," I say out loud to myself. I turn it to the left. Another 'pop' and the edge next to the bed opens an inch. I turn and step out of the way to swing the door open and walk in. I pop my head back out and there is Malcolm with a lit candle for me.

"There should be a torch on the wall just beside the door opening," he said. "just light it and lift it out of the holder." I do as he instructs. I turn so my back is to the door. No left or straight, you can only go right, so that is the direction I go. It is narrow and musty smelling. But there are other smells. I sniff.

"Rum?" I ask.

"Aye," Angus replies.

"And spices. Pepper, Thyme and is it Allspice?" I ask

"Ya've got a good nose on ya woman. Bet you are better than a truffle pig," Angus says with a laugh.

There are small barrels lining the wall of the narrow passageway. Straight ends and nowhere else to turn. I stop and hand the torch to Angus. Angus hands Jamie the torch and rolls a barrel out of the way. He lifts the floor up underneath it. It is an access door down. Angus sit, dangles his legs down then slips through the opening. Jamie is right behind him. He stops in front of me, places his hands on my waist, lowers his head and kisses me. How does he know when I need him like that? He stops the kiss too soon. I want it longer, deeper, harder. He knows. That's why he stopped. He kisses my forehead and whispers "later." He tells me to sit just like Angus did and grabs my arms and lowers me down through the opening. I find that I am standing on another barrel. The next thing I know, Jamie is standing beside me. He reaches up and set the door cover back in place and hops down off the barrel. He reaches up and places his hands on my waist. I place my hands on his shoulders and he lifts me down off the barrel. We can go left underneath the way we came, but Angus is straight ahead so that is the way we go.

Angus has opened the door and Jamie and I walk out. There is the stream I have heard and smelled. It does look fairly deep and it does have a bit of a current but there is a rocky shore between the door and the water. There is a wider path that leads down to the water. We don't seem as high up either, maybe only eight or nine feet. The water is shallow at first Angus says but then there is a drop to deeper water and there is a current to the water so to be warry. He also reminds Jamie of the fishing hole that is a little further up, that they use to catch fish when they were lads.

"Do you still have the fishing poles and basket we used when the three of us would come down here to fish we were lads?" Jamie asked if Angus.

"Aye, I remember. Willie loved to come fishing. He always caught the biggest ones too. I don't ken how he did it, either," Angus replied.

I turn and look at my husband and say, "You've been here before?"

"Aye," Jamie said. "My dad would bring me. Maybe a handful of times. Mostly after Willie and my mom died. My dad and Mr. Taylor would sit and talk for hours, and putter about the place. Angus would take me fishing. It was never the same without Willie. Mr. Taylor taught me how to catch fish with my bare hands, remember that Angus?"

I turned to look at Angus. He looked to be a million miles away.

It was settled then. Angus was happy to let us use the place. None of the locals knew of its existence. Every once and a while Angus would have a "delivery come in or go out" but he would come and take care of that business and keep Jamie and Murtagh out of site. Smugglers would do almost anything for money. Kind of like The Watch.

Two days later, with Murtagh, Faith and Fergus, we were moved and settling in.


End file.
